


You Make Me Strong

by annetta23



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Liverpool F.C., M/M, One Shot, Public Display of Affection, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 14:58:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7227094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annetta23/pseuds/annetta23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set at Europa final against Sevilla. Emre Can was crumbled, but he gotta be strong for little Cou.</p><p>Loosely inspired by 1D's song "Strong"</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Make Me Strong

_Why does this feel so hard?_

Emre wiped his tears way. The tail of his eye caught the Sevilla boys celebrating in front of their fans' stand. It's over. They won, and Liverpool lost.

A pair of arms wrapped around his filthy body. So tight it brought back all the emotions to Emre's chest. No; Klopp's hug wouldn't work this time. Not now.

"Come on, Emre. Get up. We'll do better next time. You've done amazing."

 _Oh really?_ Emre tried so hard to recover faster from his injury, yet still they failed. Emre could hear Klopp sighing as he let go of the embrace, maybe realizing that there's no use in his consolation. Emre couldn't get up. He didn't know how he could lift his face, and face the fans that he had disappointed.

Henderson and Skrtel came and pulled him, but they could only try. If it’s possible, Emre would wish to be swallowed by the ground beneath. Could he ever recover from this? Even for the upcoming Euro? He’s in a big doubt about that.

“You must get up, Can,” Henderson whispered harshly to his ear. “If you’re all broken down like this, Phil will be worse,”

 

 _Cou?_ Emre forgot his own distress for a second upon the name mentioned. He looked up and saw from afar the miserable looking Coutinho, crying in Skrtel’s arms.  Any choppy English couldn’t even escape the Brazilian’s mouth, neither a steady breath. Just tears, and silent sadness.

Emre caught Martin’s intentionally deep stare at him, sending off code that he should take this one over.  Emre nodded, as Martin whispered softly at Coutinho’s ear. The little man got it, and move his desperate eyes to the one he loved and needed the most this time.

With some beautiful music in the background, and a slow motion twist, what happened next would be a perfect, straight-from-the-movie scene. But there’s nothing sweet about the way Phil sprinted and threw himself to Emre’s embrace, choking him with a tight hug. Too tight it hurt a little, but Emre would take it any days. He gotta be stronger for Phil.

“We’ll get through this, OK?” Emre kissed the side of Coutinho’s limp wet hair. The whole world might be watching, but fuck it. “Be strong for me.”

“I will. Hold me when I sleep tonight?”

“Anyhing you need, Cou. Anything.”

 


End file.
